


before the steam

by preromantics



Category: Iron Man (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-02
Updated: 2010-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU snippet set during the Industrial Revolution. <i>"You need to stop pacing," Pepper says.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	before the steam

**Author's Note:**

> SWC number seven.

"You need to stop pacing," Pepper says. She's sitting behind his desk, back ramrod straight. There is still a little bit of soot on her cheek, right below her eye.

Tony stops pacing and turns, instead, to lean over the desk, facing her.

"Thank you," Pepper says, not entirely warmly, but it makes Tony grin quick anyway. Pepper rolls her eyes up at him. "You're not going to make better steel with your feet wearing into the carpet."

"You never know. I can do many things," Tony says. Pacing had let out most of his aggravation from the day, but he still feels it in his bones. When he looks at Pepper, sitting straight and tense in his chair, it makes him roll his own shoulders back.

"Are you --" Pepper starts, but stops. As if she's not sure how to ask him if he's okay, Tony is sure. He reaches over and tilts her head up with his hand on her chin, wipes away the soot on her cheekbone in a smooth motion. He lets his hand linger for a second before taking it back, stepping quick behind her in the chair with another grin.

"I'm fine," he assures her, although he isn't, not entirely yet. "Tomorrow we'll bump up security and deal with press and I'll be a hero in all the papers."

He digs his hands into her shoulders, thumbs rubbing below her neck in circles.

Pepper leans back into his hands in small increments. "You denied talking to any of the reporters outside," she reminds him.

"There's always tomorrow," he says. He presses harder, moves his fingers over and under the collar of her shirt to press against skin, staring down at her hair below his head. "Tomorrow they will still remember how I daringly --"

"Stupidly, rashly," Pepper says, cutting over him. He shrugs behind her, even though he knows she can't see.

"Yes," he says, "well. They'll still remember how I saved the best train in the Stark fleet from crashing into the train from Hammer Steel, and I won't even mention how I know it was all a set up to sabotage us, how's that?"

"So you'll talk to them tomorrow?" Pepper asks. She's shaking her head, but she's half-slumped into the chair, eyes closed.

"Of course," Tony says. "I always like to see my face in the Sunday paper rather than the Saturday, anyway. Looks better."

Pepper stays still for a second, letting Tony continue to massage her shoulders. "I have to --" she says, but trails off for a second.

Tony uses one of his hands to brush the hair out of her face, softly tucking it behind her ear. She looks pretty from this angle -- is always nice to look at.

"I have to contact the papers, then," Pepper finishes, after a second. She sits back up straight and stands before Tony has the time to keep her there. When she stands, she spins around to face Tony with a small smile of her own. They are close, and Tony can still see a little soot on her cheek from the train accident. He reaches out to wipe the rest of it off but she catches his wrist.

"I'll set interviews for the morning," she says, and then after a pause, "Mr. Stark," as if they still need formality over the years she's been by his side. She thinks they do, still frowns when he says, _"Pepper,"_ when he's feeling particularly -- comfortable, depressed, enchanted. She drops his hand and steps back, nearer the desk.

"Alrighty," he agrees, and she turns on her heel and leaves the room. He watches her disappear, admiring the soft lines her shoulder make around her neck when they aren't as tense.

He sighs, once, and sits, spinning in his desk chair to look out the wide stretch of windows along the office wall, down at the steel production below, with something a little bit like -- like something he doesn't want to think about right now.


End file.
